


Fun While It Lasted

by EvilMuffins



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Bribery, Cake, Food, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-06 05:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16382525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins
Summary: Yusuke had had a roof over his head, after all, waking up to a view of the same ceiling each and every morning of his life up until just recently. Stability counted for something, if not food on the table.---Akechi and Yusuke strike a deal.





	Fun While It Lasted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rollcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rollcake/gifts).



Had Yusuke even really had it all that bad? Akechi couldn’t help but wonder now and again, while Makoto droned on during strategy meetings, or the few times too many that he found himself flattened between Ryuji’s sweaty jacket and Yusuke’s obnoxiously puffy tail during monotonous rides on the bus conjured from that damn cat of their's.

Yusuke had had a roof over his head, after all, waking up to a view of the same ceiling each and every morning of his life up until just recently. Stability counted for something, if not food on the table.

That _was_ something that Akechi himself was intimately familiar with. Food could be a damn good motivational tool, something that he and Yusuke both had learned from far too young of an age.

_‘No dinner for boys who bring home grades like this.’_

That particular line had always been a favorite in Akechi’s foster home, recited over and over by his foster mother, as if she were committing a script to memory. If only the repeated threat had been nothing more than an act, perhaps Akechi might not have had need to become such a skilled actor himself.

All things considered, it wasn’t as if Yusuke were truly in need of any greater incentive to fight. Whether the sleights that life had dealt him were equal to Akechi’s own or not, Yusuke had more than ample reason to wreak hell upon the Shadows that stood in his way. Friendship, protecting the innocent- all reasons to be scoffed at by far, but considerable motivators none the less.

Akechi was snapped out of his spiral of thoughts by the sound of Goemon’s sword cleaving downward, snuffing out yet another Shadow, although Yusuke paid it little mind. His attention was fixed instead upon Akechi’s eyes, meeting through the holes in their masks as Akechi waited on the sidelines, told to sit this one out by their leader.

Something prickled along Akechi's spine then, and briefly he wondered if it might have been akin to how nude models felt while posing for a class full of art students. Thankfully, all of his television shoots up until then had involved the usual amount of clothing one might expect to wear in public.

However long the probing gaze might have lasted for, Akechi could only speculate, as Yusuke was thrown violently backward. Whatever sound that may have issued from his mouth as the entirety of his body connected hard with the unforgiving title walls of Mementos, was entirely drowned out by a sickening crack, followed by the shouting of his comrades.

* * *

 

“You did well today, Fox.”

“Did I now?” Yusuke responded, distracted by the task at hand. For someone who so rarely could indulge like this, he certainly brought each and every forkful of the cake to his mouth slowly enough that Akechi may have began to think that the Reaper might decide to make an appearance had they not made their return to reality some hours ago. “I might beg to differ.”

“You say that now,” Akechi snorted softly, “and yet you still accepted your ‘reward’ readily enough.”

Yusuke’s sole response to the remark was to take in another bite as Akechi studied his face from across the couch. Although the lighting was no less dim than Akechi usually kept it in his apartment, within his mind's eye, he still imagined that he see the blood leaking from Yusuke’s forehead, trickling from the corner of his lips, parted and panting as he struggled to keep a grasp on consciousness earlier in the afternoon.

Had the others even bothered to notice how reckless their beloved teammate had become? Surely, Akira would have realised that his stock from that back-alley doctor had been dwindling more quickly than ever, not to mention Ann and Makoto expending their energy on healing rather than lending their strength toward helping keep the Shadows at bay.

Even so, the arrangement was something to enjoy while it lasted; Akira Kurusu would be dead and gone sooner rather than later, unable to worry or care about anyone’s wellbeing ever again.

Surely, Akechi would have no need to see Yusuke Kitagawa again, once the deed had been done. The thought crept through his mind often during these visits, although he tried to not dwell on it for too long.

“Aren’t you afraid you’re going to get fat?” Akechi jeered, irritation suddenly itching at the back of throat, spilling forth like spoiled food ingested in too much haste.

Yusuke’s fork scraped sharply against the plate, and Akechi could feel his skin’s sudden and fervent wish to turn inside-out at the grating noise.

“Aren’t you afraid that you might become a liability during battle, if you were to black-out?” Yusuke retorted. “During all of these instances in which you’ve been so kind as to invite me over, I’ve never seen you partake in more than a bite yourself.”

They gladly would have fed him over at Le Blanc. Had Yusuke shown up to Haru’s doorstep, she would have lavished him in expensive faire like a newly adopted puppy.

Why ever should Yusuke keep up his end of the deal? Akechi wondered.

Food in exchange for each Shadow that met its end at his sword.

In truth, there was little for Yusuke to gain from the arrangement that he couldn’t find elsewhere, save for an excess of pain at the enemies’ hand.

“A good host always gives his guest the last piece.” Akechi uncrossed his legs, shifting closer to Yusuke, eyes locking with Yusuke’s own. “Nothing more than basic manners, Kitagawa-kun.”

Leaning in, Akechi pressed his lips against Yusuke's, still sweet with cake.

_Delicious._

 

 


End file.
